Of Beds, Shoes, and Detectives
by Follower93
Summary: Even cops have their... moments.


**Of Beds, Shoes, and Detectives**

_Even cops have their... flaws._

_**Disclaimer**__: I don't own anything. "Law & Order SVU"'s characters and concepts belong to Dick Wolf._

_Don't even ask for an explanation of where this story came frome. My mind does crazy things, and when I thought this up I laughed, so I though I'd share it. ;-)_

"Olivia!"

Said detective jerked awake at the call of her name. Unfortunately, that movement resulted in her head bashing non-too-gently against something hard, and she sucked in a sharp breath, the rest of her body curling into itself in surprised pain. It took her a few moments to realize that, yes, she was laying down, and she seemed to be on the floor. Why? She only answered her question after a second of recollection. She had stayed after at the precinct last night; Elliot had left sometime in the early evening to - what was it? 'Kick soccer balls at Kathleen'? Ah, yes. The phase-irritable teen girl was the goalie. Right.

But she had stayed far longer than her partner had, to try to dig up some gold for their case. Any suspect relations to the victim, any similar murders. And she had found them. Many of them, actually, and there were pictures of her found treasures tacked across the bulletin board in one of the downstairs offices. So, after staying up well over half the night, she had obviously needed to sleep.

Still not bothering to sit up, Olivia brought up a hand and rubbed her eyes vigorously to try to quicken her pace of waking up. Oddly, her left side mildly protested that movement by twinging and she furrowed her brow, half-heartedly turning her body to try to see why it would hurt. She now remembered trudging up to the crib last night and collapsing onto this bed. So... why the hell wasn't she _on_ the bed?

"_Liv_!"

There it was again - someone shouting her name in a clear 'search-type-of-call', and this time she recognized it to be Elliot. Groaning, Olivia forced herself to rise into a sitting position, and her dark, ruffled head lifted from over the bed just as the crib-door opened. Elliot's head poked in, obviously meaning to only give a quick glance to the room, but when his eyes fell on her they widened slightly in surprise.

"Liv?" His voice was confused, and he stepped fully through the door.

"That's my name," Olivia murmured groggily, not enough awake to stand quite yet. Instead, she ran her hands through her hair and pulled her legs up under her so she was more comfortable on the hard floor. "What time is it?"

"It's, uh... It's around 7:15." Elliot was still staring at her, and when she finally looked at him full on she frowned at him in return.

"What?"

"We've been looking all over for you. This was the first place I looked this morning, but you weren't here-" His voice abruptly trailed off and before Olivia could tell him to get his eyes checked and teasingly ask if they'd 'called the police', the detective's gaze visibly brightened with amusement. In the next second, Elliot was leaning his knuckles against the bed she sat next to and grinning widely at her, his words coming out tense with mirth, "Liv, did you fall off the bed?"

She glared at him. "I don't know."

"Yeah, you do."

"Stabler, I am _not_ in the mood. I just woke up."

"You 'fell off the bed'." Elliot's eyes twinkled as the laughter finally broke from his lips and he let his head drop, shaking it. "No offense Liv, but this will definetly be a story to share with everyone for the rest of my days. Not to mention with Munch and Fin."

Olivia's brow was furrowed still in a glower, but her cheeks were just barely tinged pink with embarrassment. "_Or_, you could just keep it to yourself and laugh your little ass off without anybody else knowing."

"Sorry," Elliot chuckled, lightly tapping her head before straightening and turning back for the door. "But this is a share-worthy event, Benson."

"Just let it go!" Olivia moaned, letting herself drop back to the floor and out of his sight, throwing an arm over her face. "Who _cares_ if I 'fell off the bed'."

"I think it's pretty hilarious." Elliot pulled the door open, leaning backwards and gracing her with a large, genuinely amused smile. "'Detective Olivia Benson; missing from partner. Is she suffering at the very hands of one of the perps who she fights locks up every day? Will her own squad have to race against time to save her? Or will the - Oh, wait, false alarm! She just fell off the bed. It's all good.'."

Olivia's hand moved fast, and Elliot barely had time to re-act and ducked swiftly as a dark object hurled past his head and smacked into the wall. Whipping around to face the bed soon after, the detective stared at her. "Did you just throw a _shoe_ at me?"

Hidden by the bed, Olivia grinned smugly and closed her eyes, purposefully making her movements loud as she settled herself more comfortably. "I don't know. _Did_ I, 'Detective'?"

"You're not funny." Elliot's flat voice shook with laughter nonetheless. "Get your lazy ass up, Benson, you have work to do."

"Bite me."

"Sure you're not in enough pain already from that mighty tumble off the bed?"

"Get out!"

"I'll tell Captain you're not fit for work," Elliot called around his laughter as he pulled the door open finally and sauntered through it, drumming out a short rhythm on its plexi-glass window as he went, and Olivia rolled her eyes at his mundane attempt to egg her on more.

Goodness, her partner could be such a damn adolescent sometimes, but, even if she wasn't ready to admit it right then, Olivia would always thank God that she had been blessed with Elliot at her side.

Just, next time, she mentally reminded herself to throw her shoe a little harder.

_And_ lock the crib door.

**fin.**

**I'd be awesome if you could let me know what you think! Hope it made at least someone smile. :-)**


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